


Great Minds Think Alike

by therunawaypen



Series: Avengers Tumblr Prompt Fills [13]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Asgardians - Freeform, M/M, Mentor!Tony, Tony is an Asgardian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-08
Updated: 2014-05-07
Packaged: 2018-01-08 01:04:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1126545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therunawaypen/pseuds/therunawaypen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stark, the God of Ingenuity, likes nothing more than a brilliant mind. So teaching the young  Prince Loki all he needs to know about magic gives him no greater pleasure.</p><p>Of course, the young prince doesn't stay young for long. And Stark finds himself appreciating the prince for more than just his brilliant mind.</p><p>Turns out, Loki is interested in what his old mentor has to offer.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is the prize for a giveaway I did for my followers on Tumblr to celebrate hitting 300 followers as well as finishing 100 fics.
> 
> The winner was bunny-barnaby, who submitted the following prompt:
> 
> "300/100 Ás!Tony (as a lesser god) is fascinated by the second prince of Asgard, his social position makes things difficult but Loki has always had an interest in him since they met. Overprotective!Odin would be fantastic."

If there was one thing that Stark recognized, it was someone who knew how to use their mind. That was more or less his job as the god of ingenuity, inspiring minds to create new things and whatnot.  Not exactly a popular notion in a people of warriors who favored brawn over brain, but Stark had always managed to make things work. Being able to create and forge stronger and better weapons certainly helped. It allowed Stark the chance to challenge his mind and magic, keeping him away from stagnation. If Stark found himself too bored, he found that he became far too curious for his own good, especially concerning the affairs of his fellow gods.

That being said, only an idiot would be unable to see the brilliant mind of the second prince of Asgard. And Stark was certainly not an idiot. Even as a child, Prince Loki had shown incredible aptitude in his studies as well as magic. Certainly nothing like Prince Thor, and certainly nothing like King Odin.

In fact, Stark was no fool.  He could see just how different the young prince was from the rest of the royal family: dark-haired, thin, and pale while the family was fair-haired, sun-kissed, and hard built with muscle (at least the men in the family, Queen Frigga was as lovely as any woman of course). Of course, Stark was also not fool enough to mention anything.  Let the royal family keep their secrets, it made things so much more interesting. And if Stark spent his free time trying to unravel those little secrets, well…no one else had to know, did they?

But Stark found Prince Loki interesting.  He had a mind, a sharp one at that, and he liked to use it.  Stark liked that, and he had been more than willing to feed the child's desire to learn. It was his forte after all, and having a willing student only fed his pride and ego. Seeing another Asgardian use strategy over strength, magic over might…it was satisfying to see. The fact that such traits were being cultivated in the prince of Asgard was just an added bonus.

And Stark found himself admiring more than the young prince’s desire to learn and his ability to study magic. Prince Loki had been given an exceptional gift of a sharp wit and silver tongue. Soon, teacher and student found themselves sparring verbally in several games of wit. Something that kept Stark entertained for centuries.

Of course, the young prince didn't stay a child for long.  Within a few centuries, both princes had grown into stunning men: Thor a mighty warrior like Odin, and Loki a silly and clever magician who used his wiles in battle. And Stark couldn’t have been any more proud of his former pupil.

Though Stark would have been lying if he claimed he did not find the prince pleasing to the eye. Maturity suited Prince Loki; his thin body had grown into a lithe and slender frame, his pale skin smooth and creamy, and his dark locks falling elegantly to frame his face.

And his eyes. Those bright green eyes that sparkled with delight when Stark taught him a new spell or gave him a new text, now they were full of cunning and often would have a mischievous glint in them whenever the young prince would use his wit and magic to play tricks on his brother and the other warriors.

And Stark couldn't have been more proud. Or attracted (he was not a fool; he could appreciate the prince's beauty as well as his mind).

Not that it would come to anything, of course. Stark was a mage and weapons crafter, but Prince Loki was exactly that: a prince. There was no way that a craftsman, even one who was a mage, was ever going to have a chance with a prince. And Odin seemed all too willing to remind Stark of that: every feast Stark attended, it was inevitable that his eyes were drawn to the second prince of Asgard. At which time, the king would stand protectively close to Loki.  All while staring down Stark.

It didn't take a genius (which Stark was) to know that King Odin was not about to let his youngest son (allegedly, Stark had his doubts) get involved in courtship with his old magic teacher. The young prince was destined for more, it would seem.

Until the day Prince Loki took destiny and tossed it to the bilgesnipes.

Stark had been crafting in his workshop that day; Odin had tasked him with the job of crafting a suitable receptacle for the Tesseract. That meant working with the dangerous relic. Not that Stark was worried, he had worked with dangerous items before, this was nothing new.

Until it, quite literally, blown up in his face.

A poorly placed hammer blow, a misspoken spell, a tool that had gotten too close; Stark had no idea what had caused the accident. Only that he was now flat on his back on the floor of his workshop, his body pierced by the numerous shards of the destroyed Tesseract, including the one that had pierced through his heart. If he had been mortal, he would have already died. As it was, death was still a very real possibility, as he felt the power of the Tesseract burn through his body.  Of all the foolish ways to go...

"Stark?"

It was Prince Loki's voice; Stark knew that well enough from the years of teaching the young god. There were several reasons why the prince would be in his workshop: wanting to borrow a book of spells or requesting a new dagger or perhaps even wishing for an intelligent conversation. It didn’t really matter then. At least Stark would have a pleasant view in his final moments.

Though the look of horror when Prince Loki first saw Stark’s bloody body on the floor was not one he cared to remember.

“Stark!” Something crashed to the floor (might have been a book, but again it didn’t really matter) as the prince dashed across the workshop, kneeling in the mess of the shattered Tesseract to lean over Stark, “Damn it Stark, did you have to get yourself blown up?”

The dry tone of the prince certainly made dying a worthwhile experience. Even if it did hurt like hell. “You know me, always needlessly endangering myself with my experiments.”

“And after all those lectures you gave me about being safe with my magic…” The prince rolled his eyes, using his dagger to cut away at Stark’s heavy work clothes to better examine his wounds.

“Well, you know, do as I say, not as I do.” Stark chuckled, wincing at the pain in his chest, “Damn, and here I thought you undressing me would be a more pleasurable experience.”

The prince glanced up at Stark’s face for a moment before returning his gaze to the wounds, “You know I can’t work with clothes obstructing the wound…” He murmured, moving to straddle Stark’s hips, his hands placed firmly on the craftsman’s chest as he began to work his spells.

Stark winced as he felt the magic flow through him, “You know, as far as dying goes, having a beautiful prince on top of me and feeling my chest is certainly a nice way to go.”

Prince Loki looked up from his work briefly, “You think I’m beautiful?” He muttered in between his spells.

Well if Stark was dying, there was really no need to hold back, “I’m not Odinfather, I have two eyes.”

A small chuckle sounded from the prince, “Stop that, you’re distracting me…” He whispered, focusing his magic on Stark’s wounds.

The surge of magic caused Stark to wince, “Come on Loki, just let an old god die…”

“You’re not that old.” The prince frowned. Then he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to Stark’s lips, “And I hardly intend on letting you die now.”

Well that was unexpected… “I highly doubt Odinfather will approve.” He muttered against Loki’s lips.

“Well what Odinfather doesn’t know certainly won’t hurt him.” Loki smiled, “Now hush and let me heal you, you old fool.”

Stark couldn’t help it, he grinned weakly, “I think I might lose consciousness right now…”

“Then sleep.” Loki replied softly, “I will be here when you wake.”

So Stark did. And Loki was there when Stark woke (Stark was more surprised that he actually _did_ wake than that the prince was by his side…that was just an added plus).

And that was how it all started.

Stark didn’t come out of his accident unscathed, the shard of Tesseract in his chest had to remain there for fear of permanent damage to his heart. But, other than the blue glow that would forever follow him, it didn’t bother Stark.

And if it meant that he had Loki, he was more than willing to put up with it.

It started with stolen kisses in dark alcoves or empty rooms, and shared looks at feasts and ceremonies. Then kisses weren't enough, the touches began more insistent, the embraces more passionate.

No doubt Odin would have had Stark's head if he knew what really happened between him and Loki during their private lessons. Or that his youngest son was no longer a virgin.

Deep down, Stark knew it couldn't last. Their passion aside,  Loki was still a prince. Sooner or later, Loki would have to find someone of his own standing.

Or Not.

The banishment of Prince Thor was only a slight shock to Stark. He knew the oldest son of Odin was brash and arrogant, but he hadn't expected Odin to cast his son to Midgard. There was no knowing when Prince Thor would return, if ever.

Which meant Loki was now Odin's heir.  And even less suited to be the lover of an old craftsmage.

So Stark had been expecting a visit from Loki.

He certainly hadn't expected Loki to burst into workshop in a flurry of manic energy. For a moment, Stark was stunned to see the normally cool and composed prince so frantic. He could see Loki pacing the workshop haphazardly, walking in no distinct pattern. He could hear the nonsensical ramblings escaping Loki's mouth.  But he could not understand what was going on in the brilliant prince's mind.

"Loki, you’re going to treat my workshop apart," Stark approached Loki, reaching out to grab his shoulder, "Why don't you sit down and we can talk about this over a drink?"

Loki jerked away from Stark, staying out of his reach, "Don't touch me!"

Stark held up his hands in surrender, stepping back away from the prince, "Alright, no touching, got it." He nodded, "Do you want to talk about what's wrong, Loki? What's got you so messed up?"

The prince stopped his needless movements, but now he was running his hands through his hair, "...Odinfather is in Odinsleep..."

That was startling to learn, Stark couldn't remember the last time the king had been in Odinsleep. But that meant... "You're the king now..."

Loki didn't hear him, his face buried in his hands as he began rambling to himself. It wasn't until Stark heard the word "monster" that he decided to intervene.

"Loki, talk to me." He said firmly, trying to sound authoritative to the now-King, "What else happened?"

There were several minutes in which silence hung heavy in the workshop. Silent save for the shaky breathing of Loki, who was shaking ever so slightly.

Finally, Loki picked up his head, looking at Stark, "I could never be King," He said slowly, his hands clenching into tight fists, "because I am not Odin's son. "

Stark couldn't pretend to be surprised. He had suspected something was amiss for ages. He never thought Queen Frigga was the type...

"You don't seem surprised.” Loki’s voice was flat as he stared at Stark, “Did you know?”

“I had my suspicions…you do rather stand out in your family.” Stark shook his head, “But I never had proof that anything was amiss.”

“Amiss…” Loki shook his head, a humorless smile on his face, “The only thing amiss was that Odinfather saw fit to bring a monster into Asgard.”

Stark raised an eyebrow, “Loki, you aren’t—”

“AREN’T I?” Loki’s voice was now manic again, shrieking at Stark as he grabbed the work table in front of him. In an instant, the surface began to freeze over and, at the same time, blue flesh began to bleed through Loki’s ivory skin. From his hands up his arms and to his face, Loki continued to transform, until the blue flesh met Loki’s stunning green eyes, as which point they began to bleed into a dark crimson as they watched Stark. “Am I not the same monster that you would tell me about when I was a child, begging for stories of the war? Am I not the same monsters Odinfather defeated those centuries ago?”

“Quite frankly, no.”

Loki’s frantic expression softened, allowing his Aesir form to show once more, “You say it with such conviction.”

“Yeah, well, unless you’ve been off committing genocides of harmless populations, or trying to take over Asgard, you aren’t like them.” Stark stepped close to Loki, “In case you’ve forgotten, Loki, I was the one who taught you everything you know about magic. I’ve known you from the time you were a child, you are no monster.”

“I’m not a child now.” Loki muttered.

Stark rolled his eyes, “I should hope not, I took you to my bed.”

Loki looked at Stark darkly, “Yes, you took a Jotun to bed.”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Why aren’t you reacting like a normal Aesir?” Loki shouted, “Why aren’t you running in fear of what I am?”

Stark shook his head, “What you are, Loki, is a brilliant sorcerer, a cunning strategist, and breathtakingly beautiful.”

Loki stared at him for a long time, unable to speak. Then, all the nervous tension, the frantic energy, left Loki, leaving the young god to sag against Stark. “You’re insane…” he muttered softly.

“Yeah, maybe.” Stark held Loki close, “So what do we do now, my king?”

“…I’m king…” Loki looked up, “I’m actually king…”

“At least until Odinfather wakes.” Stark nodded.

Loki nodded in agreement, “Then we don’t have much time.” He grinned, “While I’m king, I have the power to choose who I have as consort.”

Stark raised an eyebrow. Well, _that_ was certainly a surprise, “I live to serve, your majesty.”


	2. Chapter 2

Loki knew that Thor’s banishment would not be accepted quietly for long. Thor was too popular to not be missed. It would only be a matter of time before people demanded Thor’s return. But if Thor was still the same arrogant bastard he was before, it could ruin everything that Loki had planned for his marriage to Stark.

So when Loki saw Lady Nat and the Misfit Three enter the throne room, he knew his options were limited. While the Misfit Three (not to mention Lady Nat) were some of Asgard’s strangest warriors (with the archer, the bezerker and the weaponless shield bearer), not to mention the type of warriors Thor openly mocked, they were still fiercely loyal to the golden prince.

“Ah, Lady Nat.” Loki greeted them from his place on the throne, “What can I do for my fellow misfits?”

“Where’s Thor?” Nat crossed her arms, black armor contrasting her red hair.

Loki sighed, “I already told you that Thor has been banished to Midgard.”

Sven stepped forward, unofficially speaking for Cuyler and Bjǫrn, “He needs to be here, Loki. With Allfather in Odinsleep, your family should all be here. Especially with times so tense.”

There was always something about the shield bearer that rubbed Loki the wrong way. Always so noble and humble…if only he and Thor could have balanced out. “I hesitate to defy Allfather’s orders…” Both Nat and Cuyler gave Loki skeptical looks, “I will give you my answer in an hour’s time.”

If the warriors had any further objections, they did not voice them. Instead, they simply bowed, if a bit stiffly, before leaving. The door had barely shut behind them before another voice filled the throne room, “You do realize they’re probably going straight to Heimdall, right?”

Loki didn’t need to look at Stark to know the craftsmage was standing behind him, “Of course I do, they’re loyal to Thor, not me.” He sighed, bowing his head, “This could ruin everything for us…”

“Maybe not.”

The trickster looked up to see Stark kneeling in front of him, cradling his face in his callused hands, “You said your mother approved of us, correct?”

Loki nodded, “She said that she was just glad that I was happy.”

“Well,” Stark stood, “You just need to convince Thor that us getting married would be a good idea.” He kissed his forehead, “That way, when Allfather wakes, he would be the only one who would object to our union.”

“I still think we should have the wedding quickly, before Odin wakes.” Loki shook his head.

Stark smirked, “Why not do both?  I’m sure you can catch up to the motley crew before they leave.”

* * *

 

Odin knew that the conditions in which he had fallen into Odinsleep had not been good: one son banished, the other suffering from his whole life being a lie, and war a very real possibility for the future.

Alright, the conditions were terrible.

In fact, he half expected to wake to a Jötunn standing over him, ready to end his life. So when the Allfather opened his eyes to see his wife and sons (biological and otherwise) smiling down at him, he was understandably surprised.

“I thought you were banished.” He muttered to Thor, looking at his heir.

Thor smiled, holding up Mjölnir, “I understand your reasoning now, father.”

Odin nodded, looking at Loki, “And you, Loki?”

The trickster did not smile as widely as Thor did, but there was _something_ tugging at his lips, “I’m at peace with my…identity.”

“Oh stop being so secretive.” Frigga chided, holding Odin’s hand, “You’ve been nothing but smiles ever since the wedding.”

“Wedding?” Odin frowned, looking at Loki, “ _What wedding?”_


End file.
